


this one will feel brand new

by wearealltalesintheend



Series: The Welters Challenge 2019 [3]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/F, Fillory (The Magicians), Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Welters Challenge 2019, and so does alice, julia gets to be queen, or watched newsies who knows, the talking bunnies discover union laws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearealltalesintheend/pseuds/wearealltalesintheend
Summary: “Oh,” Fen blinks, surprised to have the question sprung to her like a game of hot potato. “In that case,” she bites her lips, her gaze wavering between all of them until it falls on Julia and her entire face lights up. “You! You helped me last time I was on Earth and you saved the fairies! I hereby proclaim you Acting High King Julia, the Fair.”“Well, if we’re passing off titles,” Margo drawls, her high heels clicking ominously on the palace floor, and stops in front of Alice. Her face is set and her lips are pursed. “You’re still on probation,” she says, stabbing a finger on Alice’s direction, “but someone has to make the tough bad guy choices and that’s always been the High Fucking Queen’s job.”*or, the Talking Bunnies are on strike, and Alice and Julia play High King and Queen of Fillory while Fen and the others travel to Earth in Very Important Royal Business.





	this one will feel brand new

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so this completely ignores the finale, as always, and plays in an alternate timeline where Alice and Quentin called things off for good in Brakebills South instead of dragging things up again.

Alice isn’t necessarily comfortable in Fillory.

 

It’s a strange land with strange rules and even stranger people. Nothing makes sense and Alice has gone through life on Earth feeling as enough of a stranger. Why would she go and seek someplace else not to belong?

But when Quentin showed up at Marina’s apartment babbling about visiting Fillory with Julia and Penny in tow, it seemed easier to say yes. They’re friends, after all– after  _ everything–  _ and she knows better than to expect her peace to last when Fillory is involved. 

 

So she lets Penny take them to Fillory with surprisingly few complaints on all sides.

 

The sweet atmosphere hits her immediately. The opium is jarring against the previous smog that clouds the New York air, but it’s a nice change. Like the Rainbow Bridge– strange, but not bad. Nice.

 

Then,  _ Margo and Eliot  _ hit them.

 

“Just in time,” Eliot crows, pulling all of them into a quick hug and waving Margo and Fen over. “We’re going to need to borrow your Penny for a while,” he informs Alice and Julia.

 

“Make way,” Margo orders, regal in her crown, pulling Fen with her in a tight, gentle grip. “This is an emergency.”

 

“I’m not a fucking Uber,” Penny scowls, mostly for show, and lets Margo sink her claws on his arm. Fen smiles sheepishly, patting Margo’s hand placatingly and sending an apologetic glance his way. 

 

“And your Q,” Eliot adds, wrapping an arm around Quentin’s shoulder and steering him into their little group. Quentin, as always, offers no resistance, trailing easily after Eliot with a confused face.  _ They’re your friends, be happy,  _ she tells herself and it doesn’t taste like a lie. “We’ll return them later in perfect condition, I promise.”

 

“Now chop-chop, we need to get to Earth,” Margo hurries, shaking Penny’s arm, and since everyone seems happy enough to go along with their impromptu trip, it falls to Alice to point out the obvious.

 

“And who’s going to rule Fillory while you’re gone?” She asks loudly to catch their attention, gesturing the palace around them and the servants watching with baited breath. She’s not sure yet if they’re relieved or worried, but it’s safe to say no one looks too heartbroken. “Is there a vice-High King, or something?”

 

“That’s a good point,” Julia speaks for the first time since they left the apartment, uneasily glancing around and  _ wasn’t there something about talking trees?  _ Alice can’t remember exactly what happened but considering it involved Julia without her shade, she’s going to assume it did not end too well for the trees. “This place doesn’t exactly have a good track when left to its own devices.”

 

“Can’t Tick take care of things?” Quentin shrugs, apparently uncomfortably aware of how much  _ not  _ king he had been to Fillory in the past. 

 

Eliot and Margo both scowl in matching shades of terrifying and indignant at the question even being posed. If it weren’t Quentin who had spoken, Alice bets they would be on their way to the dungeons by now. “That little back-stabber is not to be trusted with our Kingdom,” Eliot sniffs, drawing Quentin closer as if Tick might be hiding in the shadows waiting to overthrow them and not valiantly smiling politely a few feet away with the rest of the servants. “But I suppose Fen should be the one appointing her temporary replacement.”

 

“Oh,” Fen blinks, surprised to have the question sprung to her like a game of hot potato. She glances at Margo, then raises her head a little higher, wearing her crown and her position in power. It’s High King Fen, a work in progress. “In that case,” she bites her lips, her gaze wavering between all of them until it falls on Julia and her entire face lights up. “You! You helped me last time I was on Earth and you saved the fairies!”

 

“Me?” Julia– well, not  _ squeaks  _ because Julia doesn’t  _ squeak  _ but it’s the former-goddess equivalent, Alice is sure, “are you sure– I don’t think–”

 

“Yes! You convinced me to do the right thing when nothing felt right,” Fen continues, smile turning a little softer as she walks up to Julia. “I know you’ll be a fair ruler,” she reaches for her own crown, lifting it off her head to gently place it on Julia’s. “I hereby proclaim you Acting High King Julia, the Fair.”

 

Julia looks shell-shocked, wide eyes darting from Fen to Quentin, too many emotions flickering through them for anyone to keep up. “Thank you,” she whispers, voice breaking a little at the end.

 

“Well, if we’re passing off titles,” Margo drawls, her high heels clicking ominously on the palace floor, and stops in front of Alice. Her face is set and her lips are pursed. “You’re still on probation,” she says, stabbing a finger on Alice’s direction, “but someone has to make the tough bad guy choices and that’s always been the High Fucking Queen’s job.”

 

“What? I mean,” Alice flounders a little, frowning because Margo can’t possibly be doing this, “is this–”

 

“A goddamn promotion, yes,” she rolls her eyes, but it’s kind of fond, the ice thawing off at the edges. Margo lifts her crown and places it on Alice, all business and no ceremony, tapping Alice’s chin up with a sharp nail in a silent, lonely show of support. “Acting High Queen Alice, the Wise.”

 

Now Alice understands why Julia looked so shocked. This whole thing feels surreal,  _ strange  _ like things only ever do in Fillory. Not  _ nice  _ strange but not bad either. Just that.  _ Strange _ . Odd. What do you say to odd things you’re not sure about? “This really isn’t a good idea,” why, you say the only thing you’re sure about, of course.

 

“Bullshit,” Margo shoots back immediately, dismissing the thought and dismissing them in the same breath. Her dress flutters as she whirls around, stalking back to where Fen, Penny, Eliot, and Quentin are huddled together. “Okay. Let’s go, bitches. We have  _ a lot  _ to do.”

 

“We should be back in a few hours,” Eliot offers, adjusting the crown on his head and effectively getting everyone’s attention to it. They all trade a look. “What? I’m not passing on  _ my  _ crown. It’s more of an advising position and there’s no one left anyway.”

 

To the side, Tick makes a strangled, furious noise and tries to mask it as a cough halfway.

 

“Where are we going?” Quentin finally asks, giving Alice and Julia an apologetic smile.

 

“You’ll see when we get there,” Margo shushes him, signaling Penny to get them out of there.

 

With one last wave from Fen and a roll of the eyes from Penny, they all blink out of existence, leaving her and Julia alone to look after things in a place neither of them has any idea how anything works.

 

Alice looks at Julia. “Royalty bitches,” she tries to grin enthusiastically, but, well. It comes off as awkward as she feels.

 

*

 

“What should we even do?” Julia asks as they walk to the Throne Room, Tick trailing nervously a few paces behind them. “They said they should be back in a few hours but,” she shrugs at the end, casting a sidelong glance at Alice.

 

“Time is weird between here and Earth,” Alice finishes, picking up her pace. It’s off-putting to have Tick wringing his hands like that, it sets off the paranoid part of her brain that never quite shuts down. “I don’t know. I guess we wait? And try not to start any wars?”

 

Julia’s eyes widen and she stares at Alice as if she can’t believe Alice just said that, and honestly, Alice can’t believe she just said that either. “Sorry,” she tries to backtrack, hands curling around the sleeves of her cardigan in sweater paws. “I didn’t mean it like that. It was a joke, I didn’t– sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” Julia says, smiling in the way only someone who has dealt with Quentin and his ability to babble his way into a rant for longer than any of them knows how and rests a hand on Alice’s arm, warm and gentle. “I’m nervous too.”

 

Alice smiles back.

 

That’s the thing about Julia, it’s impossible not to feel comforted with her beside you.

 

“If I may, Your Acting Highnesses,” Tick interrupts, hurrying to keep up with them and holding a hand up cautiously to ask for their attention, “we have just received word of something of rather great concern,” he looks around nervously, “and I’m afraid it cannot wait until Your Highness– High King Fen, long may she reign– returns from her travel.”

 

_ Oh god.  _ That’s just their luck, really, to be handed a crown in a time of crisis. 

 

At least their thrones are still here.

 

Which reminds her–  _ “don’t sit there!”  _ she yells, holding Julia back by her arm and nearly sending them both tumbling down the short steps. “Sorry. The thrones are cursed. Can we get a chair for uh, the Acting High King?” she adds, turning to Tick.

 

“But the news–” Tick twitches, capitulating under Alice’s impassive gaze, “of course, Your Acting Majesty.”

 

_ “Nice,”  _ Julia mouths to her while Tick is busy flagging a servant to pass on the task, giving her a thumbs up behind her back and Alice snickers, biting back a laugh. “Thank you. Now, to the matters at hand?”

 

The chair the palace boy brings is ornate, all satin and burgundy, and it’s probably from either Margo’s or Eliot’s room. Alice thanks him, resisting the urge to ask him about his education. Or where his parents are. Or why is he working instead of, you know, doing anything else– is there even work laws here yet? 

 

“The news, of course. I’m sure you are acquainted with our talking bunnies, yes?” Tick starts, waiting for their solemn nod to continue, “of course. Those bunnies have recently picked up on a few… cultural differences between our worlds. Specifically, something I believed it’s called Union laws?”

 

_ “Oh crap,”  _ Julia gasps, leaning forward on her ornate chair-throne, “the talking bunnies are on strike?”

 

“If  _ on strike  _ means they are currently refusing to carry any and all messages between realms and even around here on Fillory, then yes,” Tick grimaces, bowing slightly, “Your Acting Highness is absolutely correct. The talking bunnies are, indeed, on strike.”

 

“We need to tell the others about this,” is Alice’s first response, pushing away the responsibility to deal with yet another political stand-off. The whole situation between the Library and the Hedges was enough of a mess to warn her off taking on political disputes. “This seems like the kind of thing Fen should be here to deal with.”

 

“But how? Unless cell phones suddenly start making interdimensional calls or Penny decides to pop in to say hello, we’re on our own here,” Julia says, sounding vaguely horrified. She drums her fingers on the armrest, biting her lower lip. “You don’t happen to be a lawyer, do you?”

 

“Physics major. And philosophy,” she apologizes, sort of. “I did help a little with the Library. But that was mostly tearing stuff down. Kady did most of the negotiating. You?”

 

Julia gives a sheepish, hopefully, optimistic smile. “Q and I watched Newsies twice?”

 

The title vaguely recalled some distant memory of Charlie singing in the kitchen, but any plot point or character development is shadowed by the melancholic warmth of Charlie’s voice. “How did it end?”

 

“Someone brought in the Governor? Or the President? It was Roosevelt, I’m pretty sure. And exposed the abuse and neglect going on the orphanages. I think,” she frowns, trying to jog her memory from what is clearly a long time ago. “There was also a barber metaphor, but that’s all I remember.”

 

“I guess we should hear them out, at least,” Alice suggests, rising from her throne and smoothing out her skirt. Her clothes stand out enough among all the Fillorian garments without wrinkles and dust staining them. “You know, listen to their initial petitions before coming to any decision.”

 

“Good thinking. I’m sure they will all be reasonable and not crazy at all,” Julia says overly bright, getting to her feet and offering her arm to Alice. “My queen– sorry,” she holds out a hand to keep Tick from interjecting like he so clearly wishes. “My  _ acting  _ queen, shall we?”

 

Alice grins, feeling a little giddy despite the situation, and links their arms together. “Lead the way. Tick?”

 

He bows, giving them the world’s fakest polite smile, and sets off to show them to the Southern courtyard where he says the bunnies are blocking the Royal Stables.

 

*

 

_ “Bunny rights. Now.” _

 

The chant is creepily organized as several hundreds of bunnies gather in the courtyard, surrounding the fountain and extending all over the gardens. Julia and Alice stand side-by-side, heads held high like the royalty they’re supposed to be and look on the movement.

 

Hopefully not a revolution. Alice isn’t sure where Tick would side if it came to that, and she wouldn’t know how to explain to Fen, Margo, and Eliot how they accidentally lost their kingdom to the talking animals. 

 

“Okay, here goes nothing,” Julia whispers to her before clearing her throat. When it doesn’t work to silence the bunnies, she whistles.  _ Loudly.  _ That shuts everyone up pretty quickly. “Great. Thank you. I’m Julia, the Acting High King and this is the Acting High Queen Alice, formerly Queen Alice, the Wise. We are ruling in place of your High King and Queen while they travel in very important royal business.”

 

“And we are here to listen to your demands,” Alice resumes where she left off, hoping her voice doesn’t waver like she is inside. “So. Go on. This is your chance to be heard.”

 

She glances at Julia out of the corner of her eyes, smiling a bit relieved to find her smiling the same shade of a smile. 

 

“Bunny rights. Now,” a white bunny with a black spot on its eye that resembles Margo’s eyepatch  _ way  _ too much hops forward, singling itself out as the probable leader. It’s hard to say considering they’re all, you know. Bunnies. “Pay owed cigarettes. Seat on Council. Double cigarettes. Less work.”

 

_ “More cigarettes,”  _ Julia hisses, indignant and disbelieving, crossing her arms over her chest and jutting out her chin in a way that means she isn’t budging. “Absolutely not. We’re not going to be responsible for a lung cancer epidemic.”

 

“Fair pay,” the bunny argues, somehow transmitting the same stubborn energy, and hops closer. Behind him, the horde follows. “Bunny rights. Fair pay. Bunny rights.  _ Bunny rights.” _

 

As the Margo bunny takes another hop in their direction, the others start chanting along again, advancing towards them and look, they may be just a bunch of fluffy rabbits but try having hundreds of them looking at your throat as if it’s a passable substitute for a carrot– it’s creepy and it’s scary and Alice refuses to be ashamed for wrapping her hand around Julia’s wrist and pulling her back inside the castle with her.

 

Besides, Julia does look grateful to have a solid, locked door between them and the psycho bunnies.

 

“We’re screwed,” she breathes, openly horrified as she turns her hand and entwines their fingers. Alice squeezes her hand in silent comfort.  _ “A vacation,  _ Q said. _ It’ll be fun, _ Q said. Whimsical land  _ my ass–  _ fifteen minutes in and I need a  break from my break.”

 

“If it makes you feel better,” Alice offers, knocking their shoulders together. This is a thing people do to comfort others, right? Being around other people has never come easy for her and being a Niffin for all those months has certainly not helped Alice in this department. So much knowledge and even the grains that hadn’t slipped through her fingers when Quentin had stuffed her back in this body don’t hold the answers. Alice braves on anyway. “We all killed each other in the throne room once. That set the screw-up bar pretty high, I think.”

 

“That’s– a little disturbing. And worrying,” Julia’s brow furrows a little, then eases out, smoother than before. “But it does help, thanks.”

 

Alice shrugs the compliment off, ducking her head. “Come on,” she tugs at their joined hands, half expecting Julia to let go, “we should reconvene at the Council Room. We do have one, right?”

 

Julia’s laugh rings, clear and soft, in the eerily empty hallway as she doesn’t let go of Alice. It’s not as claustrophobic as Alice thought it would be, not even close. “I think so, yeah.”

 

*

 

“Are you telling me we pay these bunnies a pack of cigarettes every time we send them?”

 

“Not  _ always,  _ Your Acting Highness,” Tick explains, hands wringing nervously again. He’s always looking one wrong word from a hysterical fit, Alice thinks, and it’s remarkable how well he holds himself together. If it were her keeping so much inside, she would have bottled up until it reached critical mass and then blown up in tiny Alice-shaped pieces. But Tick seems to always delay his boiling point. “As we do not have packs of cigarettes here, but every bunny is promised one anyway before agreeing to carry a message. It appears the Crown is on severe debt regarding this issue and while the treasure has been steadily growing ever since the return of taxes, I’m afraid paying off this amount of cigarettes would damage the economy greatly.”

 

“I’m going to  _ kill  _ Eliot,” Julia grumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose. She sighs, turning to Alice, “he and Q have been sending bunnies back and forth all  _ week.  _ Shit, sorry,” she apologizes, panicky and worried.

 

“It’s fine, really. Q and I are friends, that’s all,” Alice says, and  _ means  _ it. Somewhere in the months after calling things off once and for all in Brakebills South, all those feelings changed. She’ll always love Quentin but she hasn’t been in love with him for a long time now. She spent the time learning how to be just Alice Quinn instead.

 

It’s refreshingly freeing.

 

Julia nods knowingly and that’s nice, too. To be understood without spelling it all out.

 

“Okay. So we’ve got the world’s most expensive phone bill,” Julia continues, shuffling the papers she had brought for the sake of looking professional. “We should have expected it, really. Interdimensional phone calls were bound to be expensive. Does anyone have something to add? A solution, maybe?”

 

All along the table, the Council members shake their heads, trading uneasy and increasingly worried looks. At Julia’s left side, Tick laughs verging on hysterical, and at  _ his  _ side, a sloth waves its paw, causing the man beside her to gasp scandalized and shush her with pleading eyes. Alice’s pretty sure she heard him mutter something about rabbit stew.

 

“We need leverage,” Alice says, hopefully sounding more confident than she feels, “something to get them to pardon out debt. Do we have anything they need?”

 

“Carrots. Grass. What else do they eat?” Julia leans back on her chair, considering the idea. Her lips are set in a thin line, pursed and serious. In this light, she looks every bit a King. Yeah, Alice can see why Quentin spent his childhood half in love with her. “We could tell the farmers not to sell, or trade, or whatever arrangement they have with the bunnies.”

 

_ “What?  _ We can’t cut them off  _ food!”  _ Alice argues, pushing her own chair back in horror. She’s getting all worked up, she knows, but disgust and anger are brewing at the bottom of her stomach and the fumes are tinting her vision red. “If we threaten their  _ lives,  _ if we make them choose between surviving or demanding justice, then how are we any different from the Beast? That’s– that’s slavery! That’s unacceptable!”

 

“Alice? It’s– you’re right,” Julia lays a hand on her arm again, steady and grounding, and helps her sit back down. She leans in, giving them a semblance of privacy in a room full of people. “We’re not doing that. It was a terrible idea, but– are you alright?”

 

Is she? Now that adrenaline is leaving her system and everything looks faded again, Alice can see her outburst might have been considered an overreaction. It’s possible she’s not as over a few things as she thought she was. “I’m sorry,” she begins with an apology because it’s easier than admitting there’s still cracks underneath the surface. “I’ll be– let’s just not kill innocent creatures.” 

 

_ They make pretty lights when they die.  _ She shudders at the memory.

 

“Can I tell you a not-so-secret?” Julia smiles without any humor, all motion and no meaning. Alice nods. “When I was shadeless, Q brought me here. I blew up half the forest and killed all the talking trees.”

 

So that was the story. Not the whole story, Alice bets, but the Sparknotes. “It wasn’t you, not really. You didn’t have your shade.”

 

“Neither was you. Niffins don’t have shades,” she says, hand slipping on Alice’s again and squeezing. “I know Margo said your job was to make the tough choices, but why don’t we do this our way– let’s choose the fair one together.”

 

Alice nods, determination once again steeling the soft parts inside.

 

“Very well,” Julia straightens up, clears her throat, once again properly regal. Fen did well appointing her regent, Alice thinks. She risks a glance at the other Council members, masking her own face in an impassive expression. They all look uncomfortable but in a practiced way. Resigned. 

 

Fair enough. With those three as kings and queens, Alice supposes public displays of what is  _ clearly  _ private discussions must be par for the course.

 

“I say we allow  _ one  _ bunny here for negotiations, a representative of their party,” Julia is saying, making good to the political side of her degree.

 

“I second that,” Alice raises her hand, “all in favor?”

 

There’s a murmur of agreement and the sloth shifts on her perch. Which is possibly her way of agreeing, Alice still isn’t sure.

 

“Motion passed,” Tick announces, less nervous and more relieved than anything. “We will send a messenger to relay the news to the bunnies gathered outside.”

 

“Thank you. The Council will meet again once the bunny representative is appointed.”

 

A bell rings and they all file out the room, leaving Alice to slouch on her chair and share an awkwardly disbelieving smile with Julia.

 

They’re actually nailing this, aren’t they?

 

*

 

“Two Council seats.”

 

“Absolutely not.  _ One  _ council seat and a deal on the carrots.”

 

“Pay debt then.”

 

“You know we can’t do that. We will go bankrupt first, which means no cigarettes at all for you or any sort of improvement on the situation. It helps no one. Compromise with me and we can  _ both  _ win.”

 

“Not fair. Two Council seats then.”

 

“We already have Lady Abigail speaking for the Talking Animals. If I add two more seats there will be an imbalance. I can offer one seat and agree on a fixed message price. One cigarette per word paid upfront or dealt in a case by case basis if both parties so wish.”

 

“Two cigarettes. Plus one if to Earth.”

 

_ “One _ cigarette per word, additional of one if involves interdimensional traveling.”

 

“And Council seat.”

 

“If you agree on pardoning our debt.”

 

“Deal.”

 

“To be clear– you are agreeing to pardon the Crown’s entire debt in exchange of a seat in the Council and the fixed payment of one cigarette per word, pending addition of one cigarette in case of interdimensional traveling.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you are representing all talking bunnies of Fillory and thus have the power to make this decision.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then you have a deal. As Acting High Queen of Fillory, I agree on these terms.”

 

“So do I,” Julia adds, eyes wide and surprised. Almost amused, but softer, gentler. “It’s settled. You just have to uh, sign? Press– yup, that works too.”

 

The paw print is in stark dark ink and Alice leans back on her seat, letting Julia take over again. Negotiating with Bunny Margo was tiring, more tiring than mediating between the Library and the Hedges, but Alice thinks– she thinks she’s getting good at this.

 

She allows herself a small smile, pleased and happy before schooling her features back into indifference.

 

Julia signs the scroll, dipping her pen in the ink bottle and writing her name in curling letters.

 

“Are we agreed then? The strike is over?”

 

“The strike is over,” Bunny Margo croaks and  _ damn,  _ those cigarettes aren’t doing them any favors. Maybe Julia had a point on lung cancer.

 

A few feet behind them, Tick makes a relieved noise, hurrying to roll up the scroll. “Very good, Your Acting Majesties,” he fawns, bowing twice, “the people will be pleased to hear it. And in such short notice! Excellent, excellent.”

 

Bunny Margo huffs and hops down the table, not bothering to bow before leaving not because she’s a bunny and bunnies can’t really bow but because she’s cheeky and a little shit like Margo. 

 

“One political crisis averted,” Julia leans back too, very unkingly and all lazy smiles. She looks at Alice with bright eyes. “That was amazing back there, you were amazing!”

 

“Thanks?” Alice ducks, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s– I had practice.”

 

Julia nods to herself. “With the Hedges and the Library, yeah. You were amazing there too, I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

 

The air feels strange in the room, heavy and fluttery, and when Alice breathes in, it sticks to her lungs. It’s strange like Fillory is strange, she supposes. Still, it sticks and Alice is left breathless. “Thanks, it’s,” she trails off, searching for the right words and finds she doesn’t know what she wants to say. “You were amazing too.”

 

Julia offers her fist with a grin and Alice bumps her in an awkward fist-bump. Her skin feels warm and tingling long after they left the room.

 

*

 

Dinner is a quiet affair where Alice asks as little as possible about the dishes or what may or may not be in them. Sometimes it’s best not to know, she figures.

 

Her room–  _ their  _ room because apparently the High King and Queen share a room, and doesn’t  _ that  _ explain a lot about Margo and Fen– is too fancy with too fancy furniture. 

 

Alice hates it. 

 

There  _ is  _ an extra couch, though, so small mercies and all that. It’s soft and fluffy and easier to settle on than the bed, and Alice wraps herself in a blanket and kicks off her shoes. 

 

“How long do you think they’ll be gone?” Julia asks from where she’s sitting at the vanity, brushing her hair. Their eyes meet in the mirror and Alice smiles, folding her legs under herself. “Not that I don’t look good in a crown, but this is not exactly the Spring Break I was promised.”

 

“I don’t know,” she sighs, setting her glasses down in the chest nearby. The world blurs at the edges but that’s fine. Julia is still in sharp focus. “I hope soon, this crown is heavy. And you do. Look good, I mean,” she adds abruptly, cringing at the disjointed timing.

 

But Julia doesn’t seem to mind, tying her hair into a loose braid before walking up to Alice, taking a seat beside her on the couch close enough that their knees touch. 

 

Like clockwork, Alice gravitates closer.

 

“I’m going to tell you a secret, okay?” She says quietly, and in the low light, she looks every bit of a goddess. Alice nods mutely, mouth strangely dry. “I asked Q to bring you here with us.”

 

“Why?” Alice whispers, curling her hands around fistfuls of the blanket. Her heart beats wildly on her chest, so loud she’s half afraid it might be echoing on the room.

 

“Because you’re not what I thought you would be,” she admits, “and because I’d like a chance to know you.”

 

Alice stops breathing, chest constricting in a sudden, sweeping inhale, and there’s strange electricity buzzing underneath her skin, fizzling and sparking, and she’s tempted to ask  _ why  _ again. But Julia’s eyes are open and true, offering Alice the chance to search any answers she might want to. “I’d like that too,” she says instead, easing one of her fists open and reaching for Julia’s hand. 

 

It’s strange, exhilaratingly so– like skydiving, like discovering magic for the first time, like starting over– and Julia tangles their fingers together like before. She glances at Alice’s lips, then back up again, and leaning in to press a soft kiss to her mouth is the easiest thing in all the worlds.

 

And if Alice falls asleep with her head on Julia’s shoulder and Julia’s arm wrapped around her, it feels just a bit strange– the exciting kind all new beginnings do.

 

*

 

Fen, Margo, Eliot, and Quentin come back in the middle of breakfast and Penny refuses to stay even for a minute on account of fleeing before anyone else decides they want to go for a  _ fucking drive.  _

 

Naturally, Julia asks calmly what was so important they had to leave in such a hurry yesterday.

 

_ “You left us playing King and Queen to watch Game of Thrones?” _

 

“Only the last season,” Eliot offers like that’s gonna make it any better, and Julia huffs, hand curled way too tight around her butter knife. “And the finale was  _ very  _ disappointing anyhow.”

 

“It really was,” Quentin nods, moving to grab a toast but wisely retreating under Julia’s death glare. 

 

“And Fen hadn’t seen the last season either,” Margo adds, smiling not at all concerned at her girlfriend? Lover? Wife? Alice decides not to think about it. “We had to fix that.”

 

Then, very cooly, very calmly, Julia sets her knife and fork down. “I’m going to kill you.”

 

“Jules, come on–”

 

“Now, it can’t have been too bad–”

 

“Did anything happen while–”

 

“I’d like to see you try–”

 

While the four of them speak all over each other, Alice rests her hand on Julia’s knee under the table, squeezing once in comfort. She offers her an amused smile when Julia looks up. “Leave the crowns on the table and make a run for the door?”

 

Julia seems to debate internally over her thirst for revenge and the idea of exploring Fillory that she had whispered to Alice last night. It had been the original idea, she had said, visiting all the landmarks and traveling all over the beautiful places. “Race you there,” she relents, a mischievous grin blooming on her lips.

 

The prospect of spending even more time here should probably make Alice feel more nervous, or at least a bit nauseous, but she finds herself excited instead. For the first time in a while, Alice is looking forward to the road ahead, recklessly not caring if it’s rocky or unknown or infinitely new.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> okay if you liked it, you can always send me prompts or come cry about this show on [my tumblr.](https://rad-hoodd.tumblr.com)
> 
> and hey? thanks.


End file.
